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She would usually be the one to speak with my father, although he would sometimes seek me out, or call me, to discuss something he thought I'd handle better than Joyce would. Sometimes, he'd go out of his way to talk things over with both Eddie and Dale at work.When he approached any of us, he usually would give that person four or five sheets of notes he'd made, outlining the situation, identifying the problem, and explaining what ideas he'd thought of, including why he had been forced to set. One of the men got on his knees on the mattress and moved up to my face and shoved his thick black meat in to my waiting mouth. And I loved it and didn't want it to stop. The man fucking me quickened his pace and started grunting and I knew he was about to cum. He didn't slow down but kept up a fast pace as he unloaded his seed into my pussy, at which time I had another orgasm. He slid out of me and said "You all gonna love this pussy". The guy I had been sucking pulled his cock out of my mouth. "Strip!" The word sliced through the air like a sharp razor."What? No — I won't. I'll give you money, but I won't do that. Who are you anyway?" I said strip, you slut." How dare you call me a slut..." Mick... ?" His voice rang out loudly.Stacey whirled; scared as a door across the landing was flung open and an obese man wearing a stained t-shirt ambled across into the doorway. He was a little too quick, a little too eager to appear at the door. It was staged. He had been expecting the. No one minds. The blinds are still open, the sun’s heat lighting my skin, easing me into my role. I am indelicately delicate, porcelain broken, chipped, stained, ready for daily use. I’ve been told to remember, many times now, I’m just a common slut. If I believe it, she says, it’ll come true. If I am that way, then I’ll believe. I don’t understand, but I’m not supposed to, any longer. Things aren’t for me to decide, anymore. The couple arrive, footsteps clattering outside. The man and the.
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